The Dragon Child
by Mione Luise
Summary: I'm not good at summaries, but this is a story about a girl trying to fit in and get friends as she grows up in the time before and during "The Immortals".
1. Chapter 1

Secrets of the Mage Child.

This is based off Tamora Pierce's Tortall series, starting just before _The Immortals_ book one, and I think continuing on through the whole series. I don't own any of her characters, just Abal Malikah aka Becca.

I would really like reviews, because this is the first time I'm ever actually letting anyone read anything I've written, and I know there's always room for improvement. Or rating, I would really appreciate any input.

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Corus was teeming with people, because the Rogue had called a meeting of the Court

Corus was teeming with people, because the Rogue had called a meeting of the Court. This might have been the underground of Corus' society on large, but you would not have known it by how these people were dressed up.

It was hardly on par with the royal court, but the Rogue's Court was pretty good for normal standards in Corus.

Today everyone was meeting in the tavern where George Cooper had held the Court in his day. Now though, this tavern had been rearranged so that they had more room to conduct their meeting.

The Rogue was only twenty-eight, though today was his twenty-ninth birthday. He had gained control of the court at the age of only eighteen. That was part of the meeting, which they all thought he had no clue about. Though he had been tipped off by a few of the merchants, the week before.

So the meeting was definitely going to be a good one. The women were all dressed up as nicely as they could afford, and the men were wearing their least damaged clothes. They were all sitting or standing in their accustomed places, looking at the empty chair set up in the center back wall.

The Rogue, Briar Moret, had told them he was getting the woman they called the Rogue Consort. She was supposed to be there for the meeting, but had not shown up on time. That was cause enough for concern, as the Consort was always on time.

That left the rest of the Court to sit still and wait while he fetched her.

The large tavern room had a high, vaulted ceiling, and numerous wooden chairs and benches scattered throughout. The tables were all in a ring around the room with the chairs outside and also inside that ring.

Most of the stuff was pretty sturdy, but there were a few chairs that were prone to tipping, which proved a main form of entertainment. The bartender kept drinks coming, making sure everyone had their own flagon to drink from, and that no one was taking another's, intentionally or not.

Of course, nothing was really all that exciting for a while.

A good thirty minutes after he had left, the Rogue re-entered, laughing at the young woman with him. She was five and a half feet tall, very slender, and she had the bronze skin of the Bazhir tribes from the southern desert, but hers was a lighter shade. Her hair was deep auburn and fell straight and thick to her hips, swishing slightly with her movements. She moved very easily, graceful and also powerful.

Dark green eyes looked up at the Rogue, a smile lifting her blood red lips into a slight curve as she shook her head. "Briar, you might want to reconsider that statement before I'm forced to make you take it back," she warned.

He laughed at her, "That's nonsense Becca, and you know it." Taking his seat, he smiled at her as she gracefully sat in a chair a few feet away.

She had not bothered to change clothes, and so was still in her crimson skirt and white blouse. Over both she wore a blood red bodice that held in her figure. When she sat down, she had spread out the dusky crimson skirt so that it fell even around her.

"Well. Get it underway, Briar. I have a job to get back to. My merchandise doesn't exactly sell itself you know. And you have your thieves to get you an income. I'm relying on honest work." That made him and half the Court laugh as she leaned back in her chair. The bartender offered her a flagon of mead, which she laughed before tilting it to him. "Thank you for this. Just make sure no officials come in or you'll be in trouble for this."

Then the meeting went underway, the thieves of the court talking about their business and how things were going for them.

Really, Abal knew that she was not really meant to be part of this. She was not a thief, and she had never done anything illegal. The reason she was here was because Briar had asked her to. When they had finished up with all the business matters, she yawned slightly. "You all talk for hours about this. Why'd I need to sit in on this then Briar? It really has nothing to do with me."

He smiled slightly. "Because…you've been part of our Court here for six years now. I think that warrants a little party for you."

"Six?" she laughed shaking her head. Holding out her left hand, they all saw the wicked scar on it. "It's been eight years Briar. I was only eight when I stopped that dagger. I cannot believe you don't remember that!" she smiled at him, shaking her head in sorrow. "Truthfully you know nothing about me, do you Rogue?"

He winced slightly. "I am sorry Becca. That is the other reason you're here. To remind us exactly how grateful we should be."

Looking over at him, she shook her head. "Spit it out Briar. Why exactly am I here? You always have a reason. Just like why you never left me alone even when father told you to." Her eyes were crafty as she looked up at him. "So spit it out already. I don't exactly have time to be worrying about this."

He laughed. "How would you like to be an actual member of this Court?"

Looking at him incredulously, she giggled. "You've got to be kidding me. I actually join the Court and the officials are all down my back. I already get enough heat for not being a woman and dealing in weapons. I'm lucky they haven't found out exactly how young I am yet. I can't risk getting caught."

"You wouldn't," he laughed. "We're just talking honorary. Not any actual danger. You don't have to sell anything beyond your business now, no stealing or anything."

Leaning forward, her elbows rested fully on her knees. "Mm…no risk to my business or reputation?" she asked, looking at him. "I don't exactly have any other way to make my living except for my shop."

"Your reputation?" the bartender shook his head. "The officials know you consort with us. They just don't know how you fit in. Also, you're seen as a lady, so they won't just question you. They'd have to catch you in an illegal act before they could touch you with anything."

She wrinkled her nose slightly in annoyance. "Yeah. That old rumor about my family being an offshoot of the Conté family? Or better yet, that somehow my family is descended from the Gods."

"Well you never know," Briar said, smiling. "What if you are?"

"We have nothing strange about our family. In fact, I'm the only one left," she stated that calmly. "I'm not too worried about the officials though. Besides, I've never read anything about the family. Why are there all these rumors?"

"Because," Briar smiled slightly, "you're quite elusive. You never say anything about your family or about yourself. Really, none of us know very much about you."

One of the thieves was looking out the window. "We have company Rogue. The Provost Guard is coming here," he called out above the laughter and conversations that had abounded when Abal Malikah insisted on changing the subject. "Becca, better get rid of that mead now!"

They all quickly covered up the younger ones flagons, downing them and tossing them to the barkeep. She smiled at him and downed the rest of the mead before she tossed the flagon to him. He slipped it under the counter, laughing at her. "That was good Becca. I've never seen you drink like that."

"Sit around you thieves for long enough, and you learn how to down that nasty drink," she retorted calmly.

Briar laughed at her, "Come and dance. It's as good a cover up as any." He took her arm and led her onto the cleared floor. "Well? You do know how to dance still, don't you? After all, I have taught you before."

Nodding, she curtsied to him. Keeping her right hand clenched on her skirt, she lifted her left arm slightly to let him take it. "How could I forget a thing like that? Simple really to remember how to dance."

Her smile was sweet as he swept his left arm around her waist. "Becca, why didn't you change? You stand out way too much now."

"Hush." She rolled her eyes. "Just make sure this looks good when they walk in or we're all in trouble."

The door opened, and the four guard members all stared at her.

Dropping her left hand from his grasp, she stepped back, a slight smile on her lips. "Hello. How may we help you?"

The four men all shook their heads. "Miss Malikah?" nodding slightly, she turned fully around, giving them her full attention. "We've been asked to take you in for questioning in relation to a break in to your store today."

"No one breaks into my shop, as I'm well certain you know," she said, shaking her head.

The youngest snorted. "I told you she wouldn't believe it. Abal Malikah grew up in the Lower City; she knows a lie when she hears it. Plus, you've heard about how she's the luckiest shopkeeper in the whole country."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Hardly. I just have a fair bit of good luck. I didn't grow up in Corus though. I moved here when I was five. I grew up in the Bazhir."

Briar stepped forward, "Why exactly are you here? We aren't letting the Rogue Consort go anywhere with you. He'd kill us for it. So you'll have to conduct your business with Miss Becca here."

"The lords think she has something to do with the strange behavior of the knights, squires, and pages weapons that have come from her shop," the youngest said. "They want to know what she did to the weapons."

Looking annoyed, Abal Malikah sighed and sat down on the bar. Her legs were pressed together, and all of the men averted their eyes on seeing her ankles exposed. Laughing at that, she drew their eyes up to her face. "They sent a mage down with the weapons master when he bought from me. A tall man, probably a foot taller than I am, black hair, looked like a Tyran. Ask him what magic I put on those weapons, like I even have any magic or Gift." Waving her hand dismissively she shut her green eyes.

The shortest shook his head. "He said he cannot detect any normal magic from it. But he said you had to have some amount of the Gift to produce such stunning weapons with such power."

"Gift? I have no magic. I don't make those. I just sell them," she said calmly. "Do you think that I could have hands like this if I made weapons?" she held out her hands palm up, completely smooth of any cuts or calluses.

"Numair Salmalín wanted to interview you," the youngest spoke.

He was surprised at how smooth her hands were, until she flipped them back over and rested them on her knees. "What is that?" he asked, lifting up her left hand. Across the back was a thin scar, white against her darker skin.

Pulling her hand back she stood up calmly. "A scar I've had for some years. If this Mr. Salmalín wants to see me then fine. I want to get this over with."

"Becca," the barkeep called. "Rogue won't like to hear this you know."

Looking back over her shoulder, a wicked smile touched her lips. "Well I don't particularly care what he likes. I'm free to do whatever I want to after all. If the Rogue really wishes to push the issue, tell him he can speak with me about it some other day. I really am not under his care, nor am I his wife, so he has no say in what I do."

Waving slightly she left the tavern, the four Guards surrounding her outside. "Miss Malikah," the oldest said, "it will be easiest to ride up to the palace."

Looking at the five horses, she smiled slightly. Walking up, she laughed as one of them, the nicest and strongest butted his nose into her shoulder. Leaning down, she spoke softly to him as she unbuckled the saddle. Letting it drop to the ground, she whispered something. The horse knelt down, onto one knee as she lifted up her skirt to sit astride. The horse rose back up, neighing and lifting up onto his back feet. "Well?"

They all shook their heads in disbelief but mounted up, one of them making sure to grab the saddle and blankets. Smiling, she urged the stallion on, and he responded magnificently. He thundered up the road, with the other four struggling to keep up with her and the fast mount.

When they reached the stables, she had dismounted, smiling and stroking the stallion. "He's an amazing boy," she said looking at them.

They all dismounted, asking the stable boys to take care of the five horses until they were ready to leave again. They motioned for her to walk before them into the palace. Looking around she snorted. "What is it Miss Malikah?"

"This is rather ostentatious, don't you think?" she asked, looking around.

The four men laughed, agreeing with her. They were walking down a hallway, and a large group of boys walked around a corner running into them. The tallest boy, the one in the lead, ran head into Abal Malikah. Her quick dance step backwards, coupled by her lifting of her skirts, was all that stopped her from getting hit.

The boys all stared at her, mostly shocked by her shoes being seen by them. Rolling her eyes, she dropped her skirt back down and made a clicking sound. "My face is up here," she said calmly. "What are you anyways? You look like a troop of thieves out on a big bust from the market."

That drew outraged calls from the boys who all made a din saying they were squires and pages.

"Ahh…" she said, looking bored and completely unimpressed by what they said. "So you are noble brats. Well I have business to finish up today, so you can kindly move yourselves out of my way."

They were all protesting when a soft but also imposing voice interrupted them. "You all were raised to listen to a lady. Even if that lady is not necessarily the most graceful and polite," a tall man said. She recognized him, and smiled slightly. "Ah…Miss Abal Malikah. You could come then. Please, come into my office. We need to discuss some matters of a fair bit of importance."

The young men all stared at their teacher. "Master Numair, you actually know her?" the tallest boy asked, nodding at the young woman who now had her hands resting on her hips.

"I recognize you. Most of you sneak off to Corus occasionally," she said, smiling sweetly as the boys all flushed.

"This is the Rogue Consort," Numair said, smiling at her. "I suggest you boys don't insult her. The Rogue would find out, and then you won't be able to buy anything down in Corus."

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly so bad as that. I'm the one to watch out for," she winked at the boys, who all shook their heads.

They were walking off, and one of them muttered something, which made all the other boys laugh. Numair looked at her, seeing her tense up, and the flash of her green eyes as she looked up. "Excuse me?" her voice was cold and halted them all in their tracks. "What did you just say?

He looked back. "You can't have heard that from over there."

Her eyes looked dangerous, and she shook her head in slight disgust. A strange aura surrounded her, green tinged with black as a tendril snapped from her to the boy in question. It wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. Her eyes widened as she instantly shut her eyes, murmuring a single word over and over.

Numair watched in interest as the green tendril only reluctantly retreated from his neck. It released his neck first, letting him breath, and then wrapped around his head a few times before sliding back to float around her.

Opening her eyes, she sighed. "Don't you ever call me a whore again."

"I thought you said you didn't have the Gift," one of the Guard said, eyes wide with shock. "That sure looked like the Gift."

Numair smiled slightly. "Interesting. Would you come with me Miss Abal Malikah? I think we need to discuss this." He opened his office door and smiled at her, turning to the Guard, "You four are dismissed. Thank you for bringing her here."

The four men bowed before taking off. No matter if Numair was nice to them, they wanted to be nowhere near him in case anything were to anger him.

The squires and pages were all surprised but went off too. They were all headed off to get changed before supper. They spent the whole time talking, shocked by how strange that girl was. The one boy who had made her mad, he had a fine bruise across his neck from where the Gift had tried to kill him.

Numair sat her down at a chair opposite his own behind his desk. She looked directly at him, her eyes still slightly wide with shock.


	2. Chapter 2

"You have the Gift." He said, smiling at her.

"I never thought about it," she said, speculating. "I knew I had the Sight, but not the Gift." She smiled though. "So I'll have to learn some control now. I can't do that again. That was scary."

Numair nodded at her. "Yes. How did you know what he said though? He was right, you were too far away to hear what he whispered."

Considering, she ducked her head slightly. "You'll think I'm crazy."

"No I won't," he assured her. "I have seen quite a few things in my day, I'm not going to think you're crazy for whatever it is."

She looked at him, as if gauging his reaction. "I can talk with animals, and the mice on the floor told me what he said. They were mad that he would say it about someone who they can talk with. That's how I was able to know what he said." She saw that he actually looked amazed, but not in a mocking way. "I can't understand what they say physically, but mentally…I think I can talk with them in my mind. That isn't crazy, is it Mr. Numair?"

"Hardly," he said, amused. "You have wild magic, which is magic that allows you to connect with animals. It's very rare for anyone to know they have it. Most mages deny that wild magic exists."

Looking interested she leaned forward. "So then its possible I heard these voices my whole life, and I was just afraid to tell anything even though they actually are real and I'm not crazy?" he nodded as she clapped her hands together once. "Could that account for other things I've been able to do?"

"Like what?" Numair asked, leaning forward in interest. It was very obvious that he wanted to know everything that Abal Malikah could tell him.

"I grew up in the Bazhir," she said by way of explanation. "While out there, if I were mad, I could move the sand just by directing it with my hand, and I could set fire to things just by pointing at them. White hot fire that was somehow tinged with green."

Numair smiled at her. "That could just be the Gift."

"I don't think so," she said. "I grew up alongside our Shaman. He had the Gift, and couldn't do anything like that. Also, I would have dreams of flying, and then I would wake up yards from the tents and village."

Looking confused he considered. "That is hardly normal. Did anyone in your village know anything about it?"

"The Shaman, my best friend, he said one night he came out, and saw what looked like a creature's shadow in the sky and the next morning they found me passed out in the desert, where the creature set down on the ground," she said, shrugging. "But I don't know if that's proof, or if it was a dream of his." She smiled slightly. "Why are you so interested in me anyways Numair Salmalín? I am not noble, nor am I a mage to be kept track of."

"Because, all the weapons you sold us, they all worked well, but then during matches with students with the Gift, they break," he said, looking at her for her reaction. "The Training Master and Jonathan are quite interested to know how you did that."

Looking interested but also confused, she smiled. "Well I don't know. Could I watch a match and see if I can figure out what is happening?"

Nodding, he stood up and offered her his arm. "That's what King Jonathan sent me for. He wants to observe it to, since he has never seen the result. But first," as she stood up he grinned, "we're going to get you supper. After all, if you need to do anything, we don't want for you to collapse on us."

Nodding, she let him escort her like a proper gentleman to the dining hall. "So is there any strange customs I should know?"

"Tonight Jonathan is dining with the pages and squires, so we are going to stay with them for supper." He said, smiling. "It's very informal. The boys will all be in shock and will be scraping knees to Jonathan. Don't feel obligated to do that. Baron George Cooper came from the Lower City as well, and he's perfectly comfortable around our King. Though, he grew up and competed for the Lioness' hand with the King."

"Lioness? The Woman Who Rides Like a Man?" Abal Malikah asked, looking extremely happy. "She's amazing! I've heard so many stories about her growing up. My mother taught me about the way the Lioness became a shaman for a tribe and then trained the first two women shamans in history that we know of."

Numair laughed. "Are you going to be nervous to meet the King? He said if you are, he can meet you after your work."

She smiled sweetly, "No. I am actually excited to meet the King. I won't be too nervous. After all, I know you know about my being familiar with the King of Thieves, the Rogue."

Numair laughed at her. "Yes, we know about that. You're known as the Rogue Consort, Becca or also, when you aren't around, the Rogue's Queen."

"Really?" she looked amused. "I'll have to ask him about that now. Anything else I should know besides that the King will be there?" she looked up at him, grinning. "You should probably just warn me about everything at once. That's easiest."

"Jonathan wants to see two of our students fight, to see if the weapons break, if the two have the Gift or not. Then he wants to see you use a weapon, if you know how to, against one of the pages. He is very interested to meet you, Jonathan is. After all, his spy-master has reported quite a bit of information about how you're the only legal businessperson associated with the Court." Numair said all of this before stopping at the door to look at her.

"A page?" she shook her head. "I've been wielding swords since I was a baby. You'll need a squire, preferably one who has been there longest or longer, more experience." She smiled slightly, "Baron George? He was the Rogue a few years back. I've heard about him. I actually met him right after I came to the city for the first time, when I was five. He was very nice."

"A squire? Very well. I wonder if George would remember you?"

"Probably not," she smiled. "Shall we go in? I might as well get this over with. All of those little boys are going to stare at me."

"How old are you?" Numair asked, looking at her in interest. "No one knows that about you." She merely smiled and shook her head, motioning for him to let them both into the large hall.

Numair knocked on the door before opening it. He stepped in, smiling. "Jonathan, I brought our guest here. They're excited to meet you." He stepped aside and opened the door fully. "This is Miss Abal Malikah, our weapons supplier for the pages and squires. Also known as Becca. Miss Abal Malikah, this is King Jonathan of Conté."

Curtsying to him, she smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you King Jonathan. Numair was telling me you wanted to see me." She remained in the curtsy only for a minute, but it was enough to convey her respect.

Jonathan stood up, smiling at her. "Lady Malikah," he bowed to her taking her hand and leading her up towards his seat. "It's an honor to finally meet our weapons merchant. I must admit that I was surprised to hear it was a woman, but it seems you are quite the saleswoman, milady."

"Please," she shook her head, "call me Abal, milord, or Becca. No one calls me Lady. I'm not nobility after all."

"Then its Jonathan, Abal." Seating her next to him, he laughed. "My spy-master knows nothing about you, nor does George Cooper. Can you fight with any of the weapons you sold us?"

"Any one," she smiled slightly at him. "I won't sell a weapon I can't demonstrate. Though, in dealing with your Training Master here, I decided since he was already glaring at me that I wouldn't demonstrate anything. I let him test out the weapons. The easiest for me to use though is the sword, Jonathan."

The boys all laughed at that, murmuring to each other that no girl could handle a weapon. Jonathan laughed, "Tell the Lioness that. I suggest you say it from a far distance away though."

Abal Malikah smiled slightly, rolling her eyes. "That's all right. I would love to show them that not all women are weak and let men do their fighting for them."

Jonathan smiled at her. "I think I should introduce you to Alanna. She would love to meet a girl like you, I think. Or perhaps she would take you under her wing." He looked over at Numair, "You haven't told us about our guest."

Numair looked over at her, laughing slightly. "Ask the lady herself. You'd be surprised about her."

Jonathan looked at her, "Well Abal?"

She smiled at him. "My name is Abal Malikah, my mother was a Bazhir woman, and would have been a shaman, but she grew up before the Lioness changed the customs of our people." She looked at Numair. "He'll think I'm crazy, won't he?"

"Nonsense. Jonathan is a good man. He'll believe you, but none of the others will. So you might want to say it quietly," Numair said, smiling at the young girl who he knew had begun to look at him like an older brother. "And quick before one of these boys figures out how to set a listening spell."

That made her laugh outright. Shaking her head, she smiled wickedly. "There is a reason I'm called the Rogue Consort," she said calmly. "I'm not actually part of the Court, and I'm no thief. But no one can place a listening spell within five feet of me. That's why the Rogue keeps me around." She leaned in none-the-less though and whispered, "I have wild magic."

Jonathan looked interested. "That's unusual."

"Very. I have the Gift and the Sight, and I was trained in armed and unarmed defense and attack," she held out her left hand, showing the thin, white scar. "You'd see it eventually and ask, so I might as well show you. That is my inundation to the Court, and how I have the title Consort. Also its how I got the name Becca from the Rogue."

She yawned slightly. Jonathan began asking her questions about the Bazhir and how they were doing. She smiled at him, "Now, now, Voice. You already know. As I am sure you know my own thoughts even before I speak."

He smiled, "Yes. But I try not to intrude. And your Sight, Gift, and being so long removed from the Bazhir makes you harder to read."

Her slight laugh was delighted as she spoke quickly, telling him everything he had asked about. They were speaking for quite a while as Numair and the others close enough to hear listened.

Finally, Jonathan smiled and stood up. Offering his arm to her, he smiled as she rolled her eyes and pushed herself up. "No delicate lady then, Abal Malikah?"

"Hardly. I was raised to fend for myself, so I'm not some pretty lady that can be shuttled around like most of the ladies of your court," she said as she walked around the table next to him.

Numair joined them as the Training Master called for all the boys to follow them out to the training field.

She looked at the field in interest. It was in a courtyard, but it was very bare, just beaten dirt and a tree or two in the corners. It looked like it had seen its fill of battles, based on the deep cuts in the trees and the lumps in the floor. She looked annoyed, which drew Numair's attention. "What's wrong?"

"Those trees," she shook her head. "I can't believe it." She walked over, laying a hand on the bark as she sighed. "Poor tree." A low green light surrounded her hand, and both trees seemed to heal, and the deep gouges disappeared from the bark.

Walking out into the center of the field she looked around. "Well? Do you want to start with two who don't have the Gift?"

Jonathan nodded, and the Training Master called for two boys to take the field. Abal Malikah rested her back against one wall, her arms crossed across her chest as she watched the two boys in their short match.

The Master called a halt before asking for two boys with the Gift to step up. They were suited up with cloth padding to protect themselves.

When they took two swords, she shut her eyes, as if waiting for something. She watched carefully while the two boys went at it. They were good, she noticed, even if it were reluctantly.

She felt a snap in power, before both swords broke. They all turned to look at her, just in time to see her press a hand to her heart as a shot of green struck her.

"Ow," she whispered. Standing up, she walked forward. "Give me your swords," she held out her hands for the two blades, which both boys practically threw at her. Shaking her head, she looked at both blades in interest. Whispering a word, she smiled to see a thread go from the swords to one of the boys. She motioned forward, and the tallest boy there, the one who had insulted her earlier, was forced to move forward.

"What are you doing?" he asked, glaring at her.

"You're the one messing up my swords. You're using the Gift to make sure the blades break when others use them. I would bet you want to keep or take the first place rank in your class." She smiled at him. "I didn't do anything except call forward the person messing with my swords. They have no inherit magic, I made sure of that. They are regular blades, just exceptionally made to last forever."

Jonathan laughed. "Care to test that? I would like to see you in a bout." She looked over at him. "Yes. You can use him as your sparring partner."

"No padding," the tall boy said quickly. "And I get first pick on the sword I want to use." They all looked at her, interested to see if she would accept his offer. "Take it or leave it, whore." He muttered the last word, but it was enough.

Yawning slightly, her green eyes shut slowly as if she were un-amused by his bravado. "Really, you can quit the brave act," she said sweetly. "I already warned you not to call me a whore again. Would you like me to add a scar to that bruise?" in her hand was a long sword, thin bladed and delicate, pointed directly at his throat.

Sweeping slightly away from him she smiled. "Pick your blade then, _boy_."

He looked mad at her, glaring. "Don't call me a boy! I'm older than you are, more than likely. I'm fifteen, the best swordsman in the pages and squires."

"Ah…sixteen," she said with a smile. "But you see, you've never been tested in a real fight. I've probably been in more scraps than your father and you combined." She shrugged slightly as he looked annoyed.

"Leave my father out of it," he snapped, striking down at her. Ducking only slightly she merely stepped backwards.

His cuts might have worked, except that she was easily able to predict his every movement and so sighed. She slammed her sword into the ground, laughing as she saw him get annoyed.

Dancing backwards slightly she rolled her eyes. "Well this won't work anymore," she muttered before laughing. Pulling her skirt up slightly, she rolled her eyes as the boys all yelled and averted their eyes. Jonathan laughed. She was wearing breeches underneath, and had hiked her skirt up to her knees, and had tied it so it would stay up out of her way. "Like you haven't seen the Lioness in breeches," she retorted.

They all were surprised that while even fixing her skirt, she had been able to dodge all of the boy's strikes.

She refused to grab the sword again, and turned to face his strikes face-to-face. She had begun humming, a strange sound that was low and powerful, which served to annoy him. His strikes would go within centimeters of her, but she was never hit. "You stupid whore!" he snapped out, striking straight down towards her head.

Before anyone could react to stop him, her left hand flashed up, grabbing straight onto the blade as her right hand caught the grip and twisted the blade. The motion came too late though, and all it did was cut a gouge into her left hand. Wincing she murmured something that sounded like cussing.

Without stopping though she threw the blade across the courtyard, so it stuck by her own sword. Striking out with her left hand, she nailed him across the chest. He toppled backwards as she laughed. "Come on. React quicker, _boy_. You better be able to beat me in unarmed combat or you're a disgrace to the whole knight system. Can you imagine the disgrace this will cause?"

She smiled sweetly, giggling at his enraged expression. He went to hit her, and managed to land a punch to her jaw. Rather than drop her to the ground though, she reacted, her left hand grabbing his throat.

Blood was all over him, and all over her as well. He was covered in dust and dirt though, while she was almost spotless. A green, black-tinged aura surrounded her as she glared at him. "Trying to kill me. Now that is not something that you should be proud of. An unarmed girl," she shook her head.

"Unarmed my ass," he snapped. "You've got the Gift. That's a weapon enough to kill a man."

"I've never killed," she retorted. "And you nearly took off my hand."

"Not much of a loss," he snapped back at her.

The aura darkened slightly as she laughed. A tendril reached out, touching his neck, making him flinch. "Control your Gift," he snapped.

"I can't really," she said sweetly. "After all, I didn't know I had it."

Numair laughed and shook his head. "Now Abal, be calm. And you know how to stop that. So please do so. We have no need of a fight here."

She nodded, her green eyes going dead as the tendril came back and wrapped playfully around her neck. She sighed and held out her left hand, looking amused. "That hurt a bit. But, somehow I don't think it's bad." Looking at it carefully, she licked the wound slowly.

Numair laughed, "What are you doing? We need to get that bound up before you get something in it. That would lead to infection."

She clenched her hand shut, and shrugged. "I'm not too worried. I've always been lucky. My hand didn't get an infection last time either, and that I left unbound for a week because I was afraid to go to the healer."

Jonathan sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and took her left hand. Pressing on her wrist so that she would open her hand, he looked surprised. "Well, you certainly are a strange girl. How did you heal your hand so quickly?" she looked at it, surprised. Where the gouge had been, the skin was perfectly clear now, but it had the look of scales in her palm and was a bit scarred.

"Scales?" he asked, looking at it in interest. Numair looked interested too. "Interesting, this is strange."

She rolled her eyes, "I've always been able to do that." Sliding up her sleeves, they saw patches of what looked like light green scale tattoos. Lifting up her hair, the back of her neck had the same thing. "These cover a lot of my legs, arms, and my back. I never really thought anything of it, but mother said I was a dragon child."

"Dragon child?" Jonathan asked, looking at her in interest. "What exactly is that? I've never heard of that before." Him and Numair had led her off, while the pages and squires were sent off to their last class for the day.

She smiled sweetly, shaking her head. "This is a joke I think my mother played on me. She said that dragon children are very rare, myths only. Supposedly many years ago a dragon was bewitched by a black robe mage, and changed into a human shape. The man eventually got married and had children. That's where the story starts. It happened a few more times after that, since the mage knew that the transformed dragons would survive. Supposedly only two dragons stayed together, and they had human formed children. Supposedly it's from that line that those of the dragon children are born."

She giggled, "Supposedly dragon children have scale-like tattoos on their bodies, covering more over the years, until when they die, they look a bit like a human dragon. Mother said that dragon children have unusual powers, and that we were descended from the pure dragon line."

"Interesting," Numair said. Jonathan looked at him. "It's a very uncommon myth. We call them weredragons here. Supposedly they can take the wings and claws of dragons if they are strong enough and if they know who they are."

She smiled slightly. "Much as I enjoy this conversation, I need to go back to Corus. The Rogue will have a fit if I don't show up again whole and healthy."

Jonathan smiled. "Would you consent to working with Numair to figure out the extent of your power? No condition of you serving me, I'll do this so that you are most comfortable with your Gift, Sight, and magic."

Smiling at him, she nodded. "Thank you Jonathan. But you should know I'm not going to be easy to deal with. Let your spymaster know that I don't want to be followed in Corus anymore. Really, it's annoying. You scare off my business."

Jonathan laughed. "Deal. You might want to live in the palace for a while though. It will be easier for both you and Numair to work, without scaring the city. They don't handle the Gift well, let alone anything more unusual." She nodded. "Would you like to meet George Cooper?"

She smiled at him before shrugging.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been nearly a month since she had started training with Numair. He was a good teacher, if a bit impatient.

The Rogue had been furious to find out she was going up to the palace several times a week. She had actually gotten into a fight with him, which had ended badly. The whole Court had witnessed it, too afraid to intervene and stop the argument.

Now Abal Malikah thought back on it, shaking her head. She should apologize.

She had walked into Court one afternoon after finishing her business, and instantly there had been silence. Most of them would not even look at her, which drew her up short.

Looking around, she sighed. "Briar get your ass out here. What is with your silent treatment? I don't think its very appealing. Besides which, you know that we need to talk anyways," her voice was cold and also a bit sad. Briar appeared, looking annoyed. "Don't you dare say anything nasty," she said, pointing at him.

Stalking forward, he stood directly in front of her.

Perhaps for the first time in her life, she noticed how he actually looked. Briar was six feet tall, with a powerful build. She knew from watching that he could easily beat up men stockier than him, because he was extremely fit. He had ashy-brown hair slightly shaggy, but only at ear length. His eyes were blue-grey, and at the moment cold.

In truth, if she were prone to being worried, she might have known to be careful not to make him mad. "Nasty? I'm not the one consorting with nobles," he snapped at her. "Why are you going up there in the first place?"

This was an old argument, they all recognized. It might start with something different, but this was bound to end in a fight about how he had no right to monitor her and her comings and goings. And now it was about to start they noted. Her hands were on her hips, as she glared up at him, not even slightly afraid of how he dwarfed her.

"That's none of your business Briar. And you know it. Why do you care anyways?" she was furious now, green eyes blazing. "I'm allowed to do whatever I want, same as you! Same as any other woman in this Court!"

He was just standing there. "They're just using you," he hissed. "You don't understand what they do."

She snorted slightly, her hair tossing as she spun around to actually face him. "Yes I do. They asked me to work with the squires and pages, to train them how to use my blades to direct their Gift through them. Also, I'm being trained in my Gift, which you have never bothered to do."

That single sentence drove a rift in between the two, as she knew right as she said it. Sighing heavily she looked up at him, seeing how he looked like she had betrayed him in something.

Not saying another word, she had left and gone to the palace. Something was different, which most of the squires and pages noted, but none of them asked her about it. They had learned quite a while before not to ask her questions if she were in a melancholy mood.

All the boys had cottoned onto her, actually enjoying having her around while only the training master seemed displeased by her presence. So she smiled at them, obviously not really happy, but hiding it behind a sweet smile.

Today though, thinking back on that fight a few weeks past, she was sitting in on their Gift class, her perch on the chair in front of the room always precarious. There was quite frequently a chance she might get hit by stray magic. Numair had asked if she minded, but she had told him not to worry. In fact, as the weeks had passed they realized that she was nearly impervious to their magic and any spell they sent in her direction. Spells would just float off her, which made her giggle.

They had spent one whole class period, several of the more Gifted boys flicking water sheets at her.

That had ended rather abruptly when Numair walked back in, snapping at them to concentrate. All of this made her smile slightly, which drew Numair's attention. "What's in your head Abal?"

She looked up, "Nothing really. I was just thinking about what I should do about my latest problem."

He told her to share it, which led to her explaining about how the Gift would slip from her, and cause general problems for her business. The boys all offered up suggestions, laughing as she explained which ones she had already attempted with no success. Quite a few ideas were gone away with, and finally they all agreed on a method, which resulted in her letting them practice magic on her to help her have a true mental link with the Gift.

The door to the room opened, and a tall man, six foot four with hazel eyes, a crooked smile and messy hair entered. Abal Malikah jumped to her feet. "George!" she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

He chuckled, hugging her back, "Well hello Becca darling." Pushing her gently away, he looked her over carefully. "How is my favorite little courtesan doing?"

"Very well," she smiled at him. "I don't like the term courtesan, and you know it," she reproached him. He was a lot like an older brother to her, and he had offered to house her if she ever needed a home. The Lioness, his wife Alanna, had agreed and had met with Abal Malikah once before.

Both had taken an instant liking to each other, with Alanna saying she liked the young girl's spunk and fiery personality. She had actually given Abal Malikah a few lessons in sword fighting and in control of the Gift.


	4. Chapter 4

Between her, George, and Numair, Abal Malikah was becoming a lot stronger. Jonathan dealt with her quite frequently, and actually had given her a prize position within the mages ranks. Numair had begun introducing her to the mages, and they were all extremely interested in knowing her.

"I know," George said now, laughing. "But I can't exactly call you my little sister, now can I?"

She smiled and shrugged. "Still. Call me Abal, Becca or something besides courtesan. Alright George?" Numair shook his head slightly, asking them to step outside the room if they wanted to talk.

"Oh, I actually came to talk to you," George said, laughing.

"Abal, you take care of the class for a bit," Numair said, before following George out of the room.

As soon as the door shut, all the boys laughed. "You've got Baron George and Master Numair on your side," one complained. "Plus the Lioness and King Jonathan. What can't you do here in Corus?"

"Let's just say I can't get along with my own sort," she said smiling. "I need to go do something, try to patch things up. All of you behave, practice smaller spells. Nothing that will result in explosion, fire, or injury though. Tell Numair I'll be back for supper tonight with all of you boys," she waved as she left through the window.

Returning to Corus, she wandered to her store. Entering, she smiled and picked up her cloak. There was a good chance she would be out late, and she had no desire to be cold. Even after years in Corus she still preferred warmth.

Clasping the cloak securely she flipped the hood up before leaving her store again. Of course, she knew that Briar would know it was she, but it made her feel more confident to do this. Walking through the streets, she looked constantly around, careful to make sure no one was following her. The streets were busy, but no one was following her at the time.

Entering the tavern, she saw that Court was in session. Shutting the heavy door behind her, she turned around to look at everyone. Sliding the hood back, they all recognized the dark auburn hair. The silence was immediate as Briar rose to his feet and walked towards her.

She met his cold eyes with her own calm ones. "Please, will you give me a minute of your time?"

"Why should I?" he asked, looking down at her. When he kept walking forward, she got pressed back against the wall. "Give me one good reason I should listen to anything you have to say to me."

"I don't like fighting with you Briar," she said, looking up at him.

"Then answer me straight," he said. "Why are you going up to the palace?"

Her eyes flashed. "Like I said, that doesn't concern you. You don't pester the other women about why they do their business. Why pester me?"

Briar's eyes flashed dangerously as he glared down at her. "Because I care. You saved my life, and its my turn to save yours." He was intense, looking down at her as she glared back up.

"Save my life?" she laughed slightly. Shaking her head, rolling her eyes. "What is there to save my life from with the palace? This life has always been more dangerous than that one. The nobles find me intriguing. Something about Bazhir put them in the mood for talking."

"They're using you!" Briar snapped, glaring down at her.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked, her dark green eyes flashing with fury now. "You've never cared before. Why now?" she looked pissed as he reached out and opened up her white shirt.

"This," he said, holding up the golden medallion. On its face was a dragon stamped into the face. "Remember what I promised you?"

"That you'd make sure I was protected," she whispered, looking at the medallion. Taking it back, she let it drop from her hand, to fall at her chest.

"Exactly," he said. "That's what I'm doing. Which is why I want to know what you're doing. They might be trying to bring me down, or put the Corus Court out of business. That can't happen, Becca and you know that."

"They haven't asked me anything about Court. It's an off-limit topic," she said. "Jonathan promised that to me."

Fury flashed in his eyes as he slammed a hand on each side of her face. "What did you just say?" he asked, looking down. When she repeated it, staring up at him, he snorted. "Jonathan? You actually listened to them?"

"Yes!" she snapped back, furious. "They don't care about you at the moment. I'm there to learn about the Gift, and to help out their knights-in-training."

"That's a lie," he snapped.

Loosing her temper, she slapped him hard across the face. "Shut up Briar," she growled. "You're mad at me, just admit it. I don't understand why though."

"Why?" he laughed. "I'll show you why." That was all he said before one of his hands slipped down her neck to slip around her waist. In the process though, her shirt got ripped open, almost to her waist. Then his lips crashed down onto hers, passionate, even as she seemed shocked by his actions.

His free hand cupped the back of her head, burying into her hair. All his emotion seemed to be put into this, even as she fought. She seemed nearly horrified, and tried to free herself of the branding kiss he gave her.

Struggling against his grip, she bit down hard on his lip. When he backed off, she hauled back and punched him.

Wiping off her mouth, she shivered. "That's a fine way to treat someone," she snapped. "Numair was right. It wasn't safe for me to stay here. He said someone would attack me. They said it would happen eventually, that my luck would never hold," she was tearing up now, her voice shaking. "I just never thought you would be the one to hurt me, Briar. I always thought you were the one person I could trust."

"Wait, Becca!" Briar reached out to stop her, but she slapped his hand away as she slipped out the open door.

When she got into the street, she put the hood back up to hide her tear-soaked face from view. The cloak she pulled tight around her as she walked for the palace.

When she made it up, she slipped into the palace by a side door, nodding at the man there. He recognized her hand as she held it out; the distinctive scar her only identification that was needed. So there was no need to stop her on her determined path to enter the palace.

He opened the door and smiled at her. Walking through the halls silently, she almost missed the supper hall she was going to enter. Shaking her head, she rested her back against the wall across from it. Sighing, she slumped to sit on the floor. "Stupid. How come I didn't believe him?"


	5. Chapter 5

Standing back up, she sighed heavily. Opening the door, she was looking down as she shut the door. All the boys called out greetings, which to their surprise, she made no attempt at answering. Normally she would have grinned and called something back, or at the least acknowledged their presence. Today was unusual though in that she said and did nothing.

Walking up to the high table, she was about to take her seat when Numair and Jonathan both stood up. They recognized the signs that she was not her usual self.

Numair put a hand on her arm, stopping her from sitting down. "What's wrong with you tonight, Abal darling?" he asked, concerned. She tried to move his hand off her arm, but only succeeded in showing him her troubled face.

Lifting up her chin, he saw a glimmer. Jonathan looked concerned as well, "Sorry boys, we're going to have a discussion with Miss Becca here. She has some assignments that I wanted to speak with her about, and their results," he said as he led Numair and her out into the hallway. "What's wrong Becca?" he asked, looking at her cloaked figure carefully.

Reaching for her hood, both men noticed that she did nothing to stop Numair from revealing her face. Normally she would have slapped his hand away.

Numair pushed the hood back, to show her messed up hair, pulled loose of its ties, and knotted up pretty badly. Her lips were bruised, and dried tears had been sliding down her cheeks. Reaching up slowly, she unclasped her cloak, and let it fall to the floor. The motion seemed to speak of her hopelessness at her situation for the moment.

They saw the gold medallion, and how her blouse was ripped down the front. It showed most of her skin, and had obviously been ripped with some force. Numair looked livid, ready to kill someone.

"I'm fine," she said, looking up, her eyes growing cold. "Numair, I should have listened to you. You were right in saying I would get attacked if I stayed in Corus. I just never thought…Rogue did it. He never has done anything to hurt me before. Always he would protect me from others and never would he let anyone even so much as touch me."

Numair wrapped her in a hug as she cried again. "Shh…" Jonathan said, rubbing her shoulders. "You are more than welcome to live here, we have plenty of rooms for you to stay in," he said, as she nodded. "We would love to have you here in Corus with us, here in the palace."

"Can we eat?" she asked, looking up, her eyes calm but also cold. "I haven't eaten since last night."

Numair nodded, smiling at her. "You might want to fix that top first though, little darling," he said, tapping her bare shoulder. "I don't think you need to show the boys this picture."

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. Taking the ribbon out from the neck, she ripped the neck slightly so that it fell more evenly. The ribbon she used to tie the neck in place was knotted behind her neck so that it was unseen.

Letting her hair fall straight, she worked out the knots rather quickly.

The medallion, she touched hesitantly before shrugging. Turning to look at both of them, she smiled courageously. "I'm done. I'll move out of the city tomorrow. Rogue won't let this go, and I just can't handle this anymore."

Jonathan nodded, opening the door. Instantly three boys tumbled back from the door. Smiling, he shook his head as the three bowed and returned to their seats. Numair had his arm still wrapped around Abal's shoulders, as he led her up to her seat.

The boys asked what had happened, and she smiled. "Let's just say I found out something I didn't know about a close friend of mine," she said cryptically. "And you will be seeing a lot more of me. I'm coming to live here in the palace. It seems to be a bit more convenient considering that I am up here so very often."

George Cooper walked in, and seeing the interesting picture, he shook his head. He recognized the signs in her face and bearing, even if none of the others there would. After all, he had ran that Court a few years back, and recognized her cold stiltedness. "So the Rogue finally snapped, didn't he Becca?" she nodded, which made him sigh. "I'm sorry. My day, and the Rogue never would have."

Smiling, she rolled her eyes. "Would you have stopped that from happening?" her voice was sardonic and heavy with mockery, but her eyes showed that she would believe his answer to her.

"Yes. So Numair?" he asked, looking at the other man, while Jonathan laughed. "Oh…not yet. Well go on, or I'll ask for you."

Abal Malikah looked over, her brow rising in interest. "What in the name of the Gods are they talking about, Numair?" she asked, amused but also confused by how the other two seemed to laugh at her.

"I want to adopt you as my sister," Numair said calmly. "That means legally I can protect you, and help your business. Also, it means you have a family. Which I know you want, and I would like to have a sister. I cannot think of anyone would would be a better sister than you."

Looking astounded, she blinked. "Mm…" she smiled wickedly. "Abal, Becca, Malikah Salmalín. Ah, it sounds well, though the Gods only know why you picked that last name. Thanks Numair," she nodded. "I'd be honored, if you're serious about that, I mean." She giggled as he hugged her again. "So does that mean I can torment you?"

George laughed, shaking his head. "Good luck Numair. You've saddled yourself with the feistiest of the Corus women. And now she gets a siblings right to torment you. Can you imagine your classes?"

Abal Malikah smiled, "I'm not nearly so bad. Really, I'm just going to have fun with this. Since now I get to act all respectable, being a mages sister."

Jonathan smiled. "Well, Miss Salmalín, I would like to re-welcome you to the court. Would you mind coming tomorrow so I can introduce you to all the mages, and to my advisors?"

Nodding, she smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

She was standing outside her shop, Numair by her side. He had picked her up that morning from her rooms and had offered to help her finish moving whatever she wanted to the palace.

Taking up his offer, they had borrowed a small wagon from one of the stables, and had borrowed a horse to carry it into the city for them. Numair had walked along as Abal Malikah rode the horse on their slow walk into the city. There were a lot of voices ringing in the city, people running towards where they were headed.

Abal Malikah knew the warning signs, and the smoke rising was only the last proof she needed. Jumping from the horses back, she pushed through the crowd.

People turned at the sound of her voice, rising above the yells in fury. "All right. You all know who did this, now you're going to tell me!" the whole street turned to stare at her.

She walked in front of the crowd, staring at what was left of her shop. The whole thing had gone up in flames, and she just shook her head.

Her building was destroyed, and that was hardly what bothered her.

One of the women shook her head, tapping Abal Malikah on the shoulder. "Miss, the Rogue says you ought not t' have cross'd him. Says its yer fault the shop burnt," she spoke calmly. "Forgive me Becca," she said, looking sad. "I don't rightly think he should have done this, but…"

"Go on Ann," Abal Malikah encouraged, clasping the woman in a hug. "I just want to know what you have to say."

Ann looked confused. "He loves you. Ever since that day you saved his life."

"I was eight," she said, eyes wide, "and he was twenty. There's something only a little wrong with that."

Ann nodded. "Perhaps, but you're the only woman in the Court who ever stood up to him and told him to shut up. And saving someone's life, that's powerful stuff. Your hitting him last night, that and agreeing with the King, well it set him off. You betrayed him, all of us, by going to the other court."

"Not that I had much of a choice," she said calmly. "Ann, I know you're mad at me too…but, assaulting me was hardly the way to say he loved me. If that's even true." She shook her head, completely surprised. "I don't believe that's true though. It's just wrong…I'm only sixteen. What would he get by assaulting me? And really…why would he in the first place?"

Ann giggled now, shaking her head. "I'm just passing on his message. But he doesn't see it as assaulting you." Lifting up her hair, she showed Ann the dark hand-shaped bruise on the back of her neck. "Oh…my. That's awful."

"Tell him that I'm done," she said calmly. "Ann, and make sure he knows that I will return to Corus, and I am not to be touched, or I will tell the King personally who he is. And if he ever lays a hand on me again, he has my brother to deal with."

Numair pressed through now, "What's wrong Abal? Was anything truly valuable burned by the fire?"

Ann's eyes widened. "Brother?"

"I adopted her into my family," Numair said. "She needs someone to keep an eye on her, especially selling weapons like she does."

A tall man stepped out of the crowd, and Abal Malikah's eyes widened.

He looked mixed between furious and also protective of the young girl who stared at him with wide eyes. "Briar," her voice was soft as she stared.

"The Rogue will want to know that. Who are you?" he was shorter than Numair, but was a lot bigger in build. His looks were colder right now, as he glared down at her. "So, who is he, Becca? Or are you going to ignore me?"

Her head rose proudly. "Briar. Tell the Rogue that if he ever wants to find me again, he can look for Abal Malikah Salmalín. Also," now she glared directly at him.

"He left me with bruises. Black bruises on my neck. Make sure he also knows that the next time he tries to touch me, I will burn him to a crisp, and that would be the least I do. No one assaults me," she said quite coldly as she turned on her heel and walked back towards the small wagon.

Numair waved cheekily at the two, Ann and Briar, as he followed her. She smiled at him as they went back up to the castle. "Sorry. I lost my temper. Briar…well you know who he is, I'll warrant. But I don't want to tell Jonathan yet. I guess I still have a loyalty to my Court. It runs deep and it's really all that kept me alive in Corus for so very long. Briar…well he also protected me for quite a while too."

"Yes," Numair said. "Try to avoid him from now on, please."

"Of course," she smiled.

They entered the court, and Numair smiled at the guards. "Jonathan wants us here. I'm sure he mentioned it?"

The guard nodded, and entered the room, coming out a few minutes later to motion the two in. Jonathan and Thayet both rose, smiling. "May I present, Numair Salmalín and his sister Abal Malikah Salmalín to the court."

Most of the nobles looked shocked at her appearance. She was wearing a white shirt, and light brown breeches, both of a fine material. The breeches were tucked into black leather boots that came up to just below her knees.

Above the white top she wore a muted sea blue corset, laced with black ribbons to hold it together on her body. Around her neck they could clearly see the gold medallion, which she had no heart to take off. She would never tell them though what the medallion stood for, even if she would wear it in their view.

Her hair fell to her hips in a straight sheet as she walked in at Numair's side.

She looked absolutely stunning, in a very common way, to the noble's eyes. They would not admit that she looked better than even Queen Thayet, the most stunning woman in Tortall.

Jonathan smiled, "So you could come, Abal."

She bowed to him, smiling. "Of course Jonathan. Only for you and perhaps brother George though. Never for Numair," she winked. "He's too much of a pain really to listen to."

Jonathan smiled, laughing.

Turning, he smiled at the nobles. "This is Abal, I'm sure most of you have heard of her by now. Our little mage prodigy, and Master Numair's adopted sister."

Most of the mages smiled and called out greetings. "Ah…and little miss Abal Malikah still looks amazing." One of them laughed, his smile wide. Harailt was this man, and he winked at her as she smiled back.

He had taken a particular liking to her, and most of the mages knew he liked Numair's charge and now sister. Of course she was oblivious to that, and her flirting manner was the same as it was with any of the other men that she was a friend with. "I hardly do, you just want to flatter me," she smiled at him.

Thayet laughed now, shaking her head. "I should have known any girl who could be Numair's sister would be a handful. It's nice to meet you finally Abal Malikah," she smiled and held out a hand.

"You too, milady Thayet," her wicked smile was too strange for Numair to let go. She saw his look and smiled. "I'm not up to anything Numair, I promise you."

He shook his head. "I don't believe that, because you always are."

She pouted now, acting for all the world like a jilted younger sister. Alanna chuckled slightly, shaking her head. "Numair be nice to her. After all, she's still young and you shouldn't say she's lying."

She smiled and stuck her tongue out, for all the world a sixteen-year-old girl, and not one of the most powerful mages in Tortall. Because they had all discovered, in Numair's training, and in her spells, she was more powerful than any of the mages in Tortall except perhaps Numair and Jonathan, perhaps Alanna.

So of course, most of the actual council was cautious around her, because they also knew that her magic was slightly unstable due to her lack of training.

Jonathan smiled at her. "So what took you so long to get here?"

"Shop burned," she said calmly. "The Rogue's orders, and he had Ann and Briar give me his message. So I returned the favor." Now her voice went deadly cold as she shrugged elegantly.

"The Rogue says I betrayed him, but he's the one who assaulted me. I think that makes him the worse of us. Besides, he has some creepy obsession with me. Ann told me he's liked me since I saved his life eight years ago, and he was twenty then, and I was only eight." She still spoke calmly, not really caring.

She shrugged, as if that were usual, disturbing, but usual. "No matter though. He has no clue where I am beyond the general expression 'the palace'. So I think I'm relatively safe now," she smiled at Jonathan. "Besides, that shop was going to tank. I finally realized how come my business was so good. Briar was sending customers my way, courtesy of the Rogue."

Jonathan shook his head. "Well…I am sorry for that. The most we can do is that we can give you compensation for your loss if you would like."

"No," she shook her head. "Now I can work for the King," she smiled wickedly as George laughed. "I'm fully respectable now…shocking as that is."

That made Alanna laugh. "Respectable? Goddess, that never happens to any who come from Corus. Look at my lad here," she nodded at George, who smiled slightly. "He isn't any more respectable than the days he would help Jonathan and I run through the city streets."

"Ah," George cut in, smiling at her. "Don't forget about you getting those lessons from mother about dressing like a girl."

Now it was Abal Malikah who giggled. "I heard about that. One of Eleni's old clients told me about it. Said that Eleni thought you were a pretty girl, if only you hadn't gone for knight. Though, then she also said George wouldn't have liked you else wise."

That drew laughter from the couple. George shrugged. "Well I need to get back to the Swoop, Jonathan. I'll stop by with the children the next time I come to the capitol." Kissing Alanna, he smiled at her. "Stay in one piece, little lady. I don't want to hear a report of you having lost an arm."

She smiled at him, "No worries lad."

He then turned to Abal Malikah. "You darling, behave yourself. And I don't want to hear any stories of you running through Corus by yourself. And master the Sight, I think you'll find it useful."

Cocking her head, she smiled. "Yes, Thayet is thinking that you're prolonging your stay so as to not have to say goodbye to your darling wife." That made them all laugh as George grinned and dropped his own guard. Her eyes widened, and she bowed. "Thank you George."

"Good. I think even mother would be proud of you."

With that he waved and walked out. Alanna laughed slightly, "Numair. You need to get going too." At his look, she grinned. "Don't worry about little miss Abal. We've got Harailt and I, Jonathan too. We'll make sure she's safe."

Looking at her carefully, Numair seemed like he wanted to say something. She smiled at him first though. "I'll work on it. I won't give up on my research just because you're off on a job." She grinned at him, "And I promise I won't blow myself or a room up like I did last time."

That drew a smile from him as everyone else looked confused. They knew she had blown up a room, but none of them had any clue what she was talking about. "Good. As long as you promise that, then I suppose I can go."

Jonathan smiled, "Don't be so grim. Abal's in good hands here."

Numair smiled at her now. "I suppose then I have to just let you be. Behave yourself though." He walked over, enveloping her smaller frame in a tight hug. "And no stories should reach my ears of any strange Gift from you."

"Of course Numair," she said, hiding her smile from him. "Just stay safe."

Then he left too.


	7. Chapter 7

Numair being gone was unusual. They were so used to seeing Abal with either him or George that to see her without either was strange. Harailt grinned. "Excellent, now we can have some real fun with the old hawk gone."

The rest of the mages laughed at that. Alanna smiled though. "No. Jonathan has something to ask you, Abal."

The man in question glared at his champion, shaking his head. "I informed Alanna on your unique project," he said, as she nodded, looking slightly surprised. "And I want for you to return to the Bazhir."

Her hand pressed to her lips in surprise. "Go back?"

"Act as my envoy, a personal liaison, to learn from the Shamans and tribal leaders," he said earnestly. "I want you to work with them, to learn more about how to control your Gift and perhaps even help me understand them a bit better."

Looking amused, she smiled. "Return to the Bazhir? I would never turn down that chance. My only condition is that I can see Persopolis, and that I may return to my tribe to speak to the Shaman. He might be able to help me in that quest." Jonathan nodded, which made her smile. "Then I accept, Voice."

"Good," he smiled. "But Alanna is escorting you. I'm not letting you go into the desert alone, even if you are one of them."

Thayet smiled, "And you are to keep in contact with Jonathan here. If anything happens, you're to open a direct link with him…though I don't quite understand what that means."

Smiling, Abal looked at him in shock. "Anytime? You really are interested in me figuring this out." He nodded as she shrugged. "Well enough. When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow," Jonathan smiled. "Unless you need more time?"

"No," she shook her head. "But I will need to shop in Corus. I know a Bazhir shop, and I need clothes. If I'm to go to my people, I would be dishonored to go in court clothes. I should go back as one of them."

Jonathan nodded slightly. "However much money you need, let us know, and we'll finance it all."

Smiling she grinned at Alanna. "Want to come along? You'd enjoy seeing the things they have." Alanna shrugged and motioned for the younger girl to lead on. While walking through Corus with the Lioness, Abal admitting knowing all about the Bloody Hawk tribe and their adoption of her. Also, of her three Shaman apprentices. "So really, I grew up hearing about you, and my mother wanted me to grow up to be strong and independent like you."

"She succeeded then," Alanna said, smiling. "So who was the Shaman boy that Jonathan told me you were friends with?"

"Hassan," she whispered. "He's twenty now, if he's still alive. He should know a few things about me I never learned, and quite a few old legends. Also, we can visit the Bloody Hawk. They are usually close by my people."

"Who are your people?" Alanna asked, smiling. "I haven't been there in years, I'm interested to meet my Shamans."

"Voice Claw tribe," she smiled. "The story is that my tribe gave birth to the first Voice. At least, that is how we got the name. And the claw is because our tribe believes dragon claws are what make up our leader's jewelry and our Shamans' as well."

"Mm…well perhaps we will see both tribes gathered together. But Persopolis first, how does that sound?" Alanna smiled.

"Perfect, and here we are," Abal smiled slightly, her eyes glittering.

The man in the stall looked surprised to see the unusual pair. His dark eyes met with Alanna's first, and he froze. After all, violet eyes like hers were by no means common to be seen. She smiled at him, and he looked sidelong at the other girl, and that drew a shocked smile from him. "Wait. You look rather familiar, milady. Abal?"

She smiled sweetly, but also froze. "Hassan?"

Throwing his arms around her in a tight hug, he smiled. "Darling little sister, I can't believe it. We all thought you were dead."

"No, not yet," she smiled before pulling back. "This is Alanna, the Lioness, Woman Who Rides Like a Man. You remember mother's stories about her, don't you?" her eyes glittered with pure adoration.

Laughing, Hassan nodded. Bowing to Alanna he smiled. "It's an honor to meet you Lioness. How is it that you know Abal?"

Alanna smiled. "We should probably sit now. This might be a long tale," she said as Hassan led them into the small store. All three took seats, settling silently.

"Well, Abal, we mostly call her Becca. It's a nickname she got from the Rogue's Court in Lower Corus, you might have heard of her with the name Becca. I met her probably two months ago, and she's been in the Voice, King Jonathan's court for almost three months. Numair Salmalín, a mage for Jonathan, adopted her just a bit ago as his sister, so now she's Abal Malikah Salmalín, also known as Becca."

Hassan laughed, "Abal always was good at stirring things up."

"Very," Alanna smiled. "She's got quite a strong Gift, and Sight. She's proving to be quite the mage. We're actually heading to the Bazhir, so she can join her people again and find out more about herself, and also to learn more information for the Voice, because he always wishes to know more about his people. Also, so she can see Persopolis, which I guess she has never seen."

Abal smiled sweetly. "Never, but I always wanted to," she said, looking over at Hassan. "Actually, would you like to come with us Hassan?"

He chuckled. "I was sent here, to wait for a sign. I do believe this is it. I would love to come with you, little sister. But you came here for a reason. Why was it again? Since you never said why."

"Clothes," she smiled. "I want to go to the Bazhir dressed as a Bazhir."

He chuckled, looking at her. He was much darker skinned than she was, as he had purely bronze skin of a native Bazhir, and she had a more milky-bronze skin, which led them to think her father had been a northern Tortallan. "Sure, no problem. Take your pick of anything I have."

Smiling at him, she wandered off through the store, grabbing breeches, skirts, tops and veils.

For her feet, she smiled at the boots he had available.

Pulling out one pair made of brown leather. Showing him everything, he smiled. "You still have good taste, little sister. Well consider this all on me. It's the least I can do for not seeing you in years."

Putting it all into a small leather sack, he smiled as she slung it over her shoulders. "Come back to the palace with us. That way we can start out early tomorrow. Wouldn't you like to meet the Voice?"

"No," he shook his head. "I'm not worthy of that meeting."

Alanna laughed, "Jonathan would want to meet you. Come on, worst thing that happens is that you say something embarrassing Hassan."

The man smiled, "That is what worries me. But, I suppose I can meet with the Voice if my little sister asks it of me." Hassan sighed as she hugged him again, laughing. She was about to ask a question. "Perhaps I should tell you that now, before too much else goes on."

Alanna looked over, "Tell her what?"

Sighing, he looked at her. "You said Numair Salmalín adopted her?" Alanna nodded, looking confused.

"Yes…your mother, never told you about me? Well…I'm her older brother's son, your cousin. Though, I'm actually adopted, so we have no blood relation. Of course, I am glad you have a brother to look after you. You need that, especially if you keep running around like you used to."

She smiled as Alanna laughed. "Family pops up all over. Well, Numair should have been here to meet you Hassan."

Abal smiled and shrugged. "Well, shall we go up to the palace then?"


	8. Chapter 8

They were all walking out, with Abal and Alanna in front, turning around to watch as Hassan shut and locked the door behind him. "Can't be too safe," he said, but when he turned around his smile vanished. "Becca, get back behind me."

She turned around, shaking her head in annoyance. "What do you want?" she started to speak, but was ended in a yelp when a knife was pressed to her throat. Lifting her head slightly, she took shallow breaths, making sure not to panic. Both Alanna and Hassan had moved forward to stop them, but froze when the tall man motioned them back with a motion of his free hand.

That hand clasped back on her left arm, holding her still. "Well…I didn't think you were so stupid as to come back here," the low voice blew past her ear, as his lips brushed her ear.

Shivering slightly, she stepped back slightly so that the knife was no longer against her neck.

In all that time, Alanna and Hassan were moved sideways and Abal and her captor moved backwards towards the store. "My, my Becca," he chuckled. "It is rather a shame that I had to resort to this."

"Resort to?" she hissed back, her green eyes flashing. "You already laid your hands on me once…doing it again isn't too far below your already _low_ level of treatment, am I right?" the pure disgust in her voice seemed to get to him more than her actual words ever would.

"You gave me no choice Becca," he said calmly. "You ran out on us that night and I didn't get to explain myself to you."

She was unable to look at him, but she still seemed to convey all her anger. "Get your hands off of me now, or I'll be forced to hurt you," her calm tone was too sudden and controlled to be normal, most of the men present noted.

"Hey, Rogue, maybe you better listen to her," one of them, she recognized the barkeep in their tavern. "Remember how serious Becca always was?"

The man in question just laughed though. "Please, Becca won't hurt us."

Ducking underneath his knife-wielding arm, she spun around. His grip on her arm was still tight, but she could face him now. "I'm warning you, let me go now Rogue. I will hurt you if I have to."

He shrugged slightly. "I don't think you will," he said as he leaned towards her.

"Fine, have it your way," she snapped. "I did warn you," she shook her head, whole body shaking a bit in anger.

Alanna noticed that her hands darkened, long black claws extending as her eyes darkened and black slit pupils became evident. A low, feral growl escaped from her lips as the dark green, black tinged aura surrounded her as a rope fastened around his neck. He stared in shock at her, obviously surprised and horrified by the claws from her hands. One of her hands hand caught him by the throat, dark claws cutting in.

"What the hell?" he asked, obviously in shock.

"Don't ever touch me again, Briar," she snapped out. "I'm done. The Court was good to me, but now I think I understand something…you all are destructive. Listening to the Rogue will kill you all, especially if at twenty he falls in love with an eight-year-old girl. That is so _disgusting_!"

"Shut up you witch," Briar snarled.

As he reached out to slap her, she reacted instantly, claws from the hand that had held his neck cutting through his arm.

Looking shocked, she shook her head in anger and ran off the other way down the street. Alanna and Hassan just looked at him before Hassan took off and ran after her, Alanna following.

When she caught up, she found Hassan cradling the smaller form of Abal in his arms as she sobbed. The black claws had cut strips out of his shirt, which he was insisting to her that it was no issue.

After a while she sighed and looked up, the slit pupils of the dragons still present in her eyes even as the claws retracted and her hands returned to normal. Now though, he saw light-green scale tattoos on her hands.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "I'm sorry Hassan, Alanna. I panicked. Numair never warned me that my personality would change."

"Personality?" Hassan asked.

"Dragon child, weredragon," Abal said calmly. "Remember mother's stories about the dragon children?" Hassan nodded. "I'm one of them. Don't laugh though. I never thought, and he never told me, that I would get this anger at being insulted, like I could hold that anger for eternity."

Alanna and Hassan both looked at each other. "Come on, we're still going to go see Jonathan. Maybe Numair told him something that could help us out with your dilemma," Alanna said calmly.

Nodding, she smiled bravely. The three walked up to the palace, entering the chamber where they had left Jonathan and the council earlier to go shopping.

Alanna shut the doors, looking at Harailt, "Put up wards so no one can hear us." Her voice was cold and commanding. When both mages had put up the wards, she turned to look at Jonathan. "This girl needs a bloody armed guard to go into Corus."

"What do you mean?" Jonathan asked looking at the man with her, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. "And who exactly is this?"

"Hassan," the man said, bowing. "Shaman of the Voice Claw tribe, and adoptive cousin of Becca." He said all this calmly. "I guess that milady Abal wants me to accompany her back to our tribe."

Harailt and the others sized him up, watching carefully. They all knew what would happen if Numair found out they had let his younger sister get hurt the same day he left. He would never allow her out of his sight again, and he would blacklist them, harassed by small magic for quite a few months or any number of consequences they could not yet think of.

He was six-foot-one, slim and toned, like most of the Bazhir. His skin was dark bronze, and he had thick black hair cropped to his chin in shaggy locks. His black eyes glittered with intelligence, and the mages all recognized the Gift in him.

Jonathan nodded, "An armed guard?" Abal looked up for the first time, and he saw the change in her eyes. "What happened to you?" She lifted up her head, so he saw the beading of blood on her neck. Also, he could clearly see the dark bruise on her arm. "Who did it?" he asked, stunning blue eyes growing cold with anger.

Sighing, she looked up at him, "Briar. He's not worth any royal wrath though. Just drop it. I discovered something new though…" she trailed off, shutting her strange eyes slowly.

"Did brother ever mention there being a possibility of my personality changing with gaining my claws and wings?"

Shaking his head, he smiled. "Which ones?"

"Claws," she said, looking annoyed. "I felt though, that I could have held my anger against him for eternity." Her eyes glowed slightly as she thought. "No matter though. Alanna just thinks I should since the Rogue sent Briar out with his attack force. It's no big deal though. I can take care of myself it seems."

"You realize you just told my full council your secret," he smiled.

"Nonsense. I just meant that my Gift spell to use claw illusions worked," she winked at him as he laughed.

"He never mentioned personality change. We'll have to ask him though."

Alanna rolled her eyes. "Come on, talk about that some other time, not now. You need sleep so that you can get up early tomorrow. Both of you. We're starting before dawn, and I'm giving you free pick of any horse in the stables unless it belongs specifically to a person already."

"I could be gone for years," she pointed out calmly. "This might be the only time to ask my questions."

Laughing, Jonathan smiled. "Don't worry about it. We'll talk again when you return to Corus. And you won't be down there for years straight, you'll have breaks back up here to report and see Numair."

Laughing, she smiled. "Very well. Then I'll go off to sleep and wake up at an ungodly hour tomorrow," she waved to them all before walking out. "Make sure Hassan has a place to sleep." Those were the last words they heard from her that day as she disappeared out the door.

She went directly to her suite of rooms, shutting and locking the door behind herself. The small satchel she laid by the door before collapsing onto her bed.

She was freezing, but made no move to cover herself up. Her hair was splayed out behind her head and her dark green eyes were wide open, as if she really were awake. That was impossible though, had anyone seen her, they would have been able to tell by how nothing made her vision change, that she was out cold.

Strange though, since she looked dead, the only clue that she was still alive was the soft ebb of breath in an out of her lips.

And that was how she slept that night, until an hour before dawn. On waking up, she smiled. She took a quick bath, cleaning herself up before dressing in the brown leather boots, breeches, and a loose top. Over it all, she wrapped a sheer black veil that held her hair off her face, and also covered her face slightly from view.

In a satchel she put all her other clothes, plus a few books that Numair had asked her to read. On top of all that she put a journal, quill and bottle of ink. Shutting the satchel she slung it over her back before walking into the council room.

Waiting there was Alanna, Jonathan, George, Thayet, and the other members of the council.

"Well, this certainly is an early morning," she smiled slightly.

Harailt groaned, "You're too cheerful Abal Malikah. Why would you be so cheerful waking up before dawn?"

"Because I get to see my people again," she grinned.

"Too cheerful," Alanna groaned. She was wiping the sleep from her eyes and seemed rather too tired to be starting off yet. "And it's too early. Persopolis is first on our list of stops though, so you can see that city. It really is pretty."

Hassan laughed slightly, "It's just like Becca to be too cheerful for her own good. She never did know when to be serious."

"That's changed," Jonathan smiled at her. "Harailt wants to come with you, at least to Persopolis. He has some business to attend to there. Would you accept him into your party as company?"

Looking over, she nodded. "Of course. Harailt is always welcome, since he's one of Numair's friends after all."

Harailt chuckled and smiled at her. "Most gracious of you, Miss Salmalín, to allow me to come with you." His sarcastic tone was tempered by the smile he gave her, and by the laughter of the council.

"It's time to go," Alanna said, heading for the door. "We need to saddle up the horses and get started."

Abal nodded, smiling at Jonathan. "Bye Jon. I'll see you in a few months or so. After all, there's a lot to see and do in the Bazhir desert." She held out her hands to him, which he clasped before giving her a hug that she returned. "I promise I'll keep in contact and call for help if I need it."

"Good girl," he nodded. "Numair will kill me if you get hurt." Thayet smiled slightly, which he grinned at. "Plus, I rather have come to like you and you're a good mage, one that we would do well not to lose."

They said farewell to everyone else, then Harailt and Alanna led Hassan and Abal down to the stables.

Getting their horses saddled and loaded down evenly, the four mounted up. Looking one last time at the palace, Abal smiled at Alanna. "Let's go. I can't wait to get back to the desert. It's warm there, unlike this frosty city."

She tapped into her horse's sides gently, smiling as she whispered to go. With her horse thundering ahead, the other three followed her down the streets of Corus and out onto the main road.


End file.
